


Feel My Heart Come Undone

by sindubu



Category: Red Velvet (K-pop Band)
Genre: Disgustingly sweet, F/F, Fluff, just call your dentist now
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-23
Updated: 2015-07-23
Packaged: 2018-04-10 19:21:13
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,390
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4404203
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sindubu/pseuds/sindubu
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Wendy is homesick.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Feel My Heart Come Undone

Wendy is bright -- brighter than a lot of things, but Irene hesitates to say she’s brighter than the sun.

After all, she reasons, people aren’t stars. They live in a world where they’re surrounded by shiny things -- gleaming trophies, sparkling stages, and enough glowing faces of fans it still makes Irene’s head spin a little bit, but they’re not invincible. 

Often, they wake long before the sun even rises over the horizon, straight backed in make up chairs and preparing for schedules. Sometimes it’s the only break they have the entire day.

They get tired. It’s their second month straight of promotions, a natural turn of events after unexpected success of their new single. It makes sense, from a business standpoint, to have them keep going.

Irene’s grateful, really. Every time their name is called during a music show, she’s still not sure if she can really believe it, if this is her life, if she’s come this far after working so hard for years. But then she looks at her members and thinks of all the long hours, the exhaustion that lines their faces each night, and it feels more real. They deserve nothing less.

So if she lets Yeri sleep in an extra five minutes every morning because her school uniform is already neatly pressed and ironed, if she doesn’t scold Joy for nodding off in the van on the way to a schedule, if she lets Seulgi control the remote in their dorm and put on the cheesiest drama on, it’s because she doesn’t know how to tell them. 

They deserve everything, and as their leader, Irene wants to promise them that, but she can’t. So she’ll let them rest when they can instead, maybe feel the love in her “good night” when she checks up on them in their beds before sleep every night.

But she doesn’t know what to do about Wendy.

Wendy, with her louder than life laugh and remarkable (and strange) facial expressions. Wendy, who, arguably, is only second to Joy in variety. Wendy, who the world knows. Wendy, only a fraction of Son Seungwan, who the world has no idea about at all.

Irene sees both, which is why when she goes to say good night to Joy and Seulgi and Wendy in their room and finds one bed empty, she can’t say she’s surprised. 

It takes awhile for her to figure out where to go, but when the door leading up to the roof is slightly ajar, Irene knows she’s found the right place.

She doesn’t make a show of announcing her presence, or trying to hide it for that matter, but Wendy notices her straight away regardless. Irene’s heart clenches the way the corners of her mouth struggle to lift themselves up in a smile.

She wants so badly that Wendy was the sun -- indistinguishable and invincible, in this very moment, because the girl she sees is so far from. She wants Wendy to be as bright as her hair, light and cheerful and soft.

Soft. Irene swallows back the bundle of nerves in her throat, because she thinks she’s been that way with Wendy from the very beginning. It’s always been a little different with her. 

She’d gotten along well with Seulgi at first, and then Joy and Yeri because they’re lovable brats and it’s impossible not to, but it took time for the two of them to be comfortable in each other’s space. If anyone were to ask, Irene would say it was probably more her fault than Wendy’s, but that didn’t mean she didn’t care for Wendy. That was as far from the truth as possible. 

She’s always noticed Wendy, because she cares to. She can’t think of a time where her eyes hadn’t followed the tiny foreigner girl with the kind of voice to make anyone stop and stare. Irene certainly did. She still does.

Irene doesn’t particularly like heights, either, but Wendy does when they come with a view. She stands by the ledge next to her, turns her gaze over the stars and the lights of Seoul, allowing silence to wash over them both and carry away the day’s fatigue. It’s peaceful, but Irene doesn’t know if it’s because of the sight displayed in front of them, or because Wendy’s with her.

Wendy’s first to speak. “I used to go up to the roof of my house back in Canada,” she explains quietly, “When I couldn’t sleep, I’d just climb up and look at the stars and wish I was someplace else.”

Irene exhales. “And now?”

“Now -- “ Wendy glances at her out of the corner of her eye. “I don’t mind so much, but I do miss some things. My parents. My sister.”

“You could give them a call,” suggests Irene, “It’s late here, so it’s probably a reasonable hour there.”

At that, she shakes her head, a curtain of golden blonde hiding her face. Irene’s fingers twitch at her side, and she grips the ledge, uncertain.

“The things I miss aren’t things I can get over the phone,” Wendy whispers, “like my mom’s terrible impersonations of people at her job. And my dad pretending he can cook when he really can’t.” She laughs, a humorless little sound that hurts to hear. “They’re dumb things to miss, but I do.”

Wendy’s shoulders quiver, little tremors of sadness and longing that leave fault lines in her chest, and Irene reaches up to push her hair out of her face, startled when she brushes her cheek and her hand comes away wet with tears. 

“They’re not dumb.” She doesn’t know if she’s pulled Wendy to her or Wendy let herself in Irene’s arms, but it doesn’t matter now. Irene wraps her arms around her and lets Wendy sniffle into the crook of her neck.

“They’re not dumb.” Irene says again, softer and lower this time. “They’re not. And I bet your parents miss things about you, too. They have to. I -- ” She hesitates. “I would.”

Irene thinks she might be imagining it, but she swears she feels Wendy tighten her arms around her neck. 

“We should send them something,” she starts, not knowing what she’s saying before she does, and Wendy pulls back a little to look at her, nose red and eyes watery, “A care package. We could all write letters. And send stuff for them to use, like stationary to write back with. Or clothes. You said your sister was looking for a new winter coat, right?”

Wendy’s looking at her in a way Irene can’t explain, so she just keeps talking instead, cheeks flushing. “It’s not the same, but if they wrote back with the things you sent them or saw photos wearing clothes you bought… it’s like you’re there, while being here, too.”

“Irene... “

“You don’t like the idea,” Irene averts her eyes.

“No,” Wendy tells her, voice a little strained from crying, and a lot something else. Irene can’t tell what it is. “No, it’s… it’s smart.”

Irene sneaks a glance toward Wendy again, and gets lost in the way her eyes look, but maybe -- maybe getting lost is the wrong word. Maybe she’s supposed to be there -- here -- all along.

Maybe Wendy’s not the sun. Maybe she’s not supposed to be. Maybe she’s more like a lighthouse instead. 

“Well,” Irene licks her lips, pausing, “they made me leader for a reason, probably.”

Wendy’s smile is small, but so fond she’s taken aback for a moment. “No,” she shakes her head, “I don’t think it was that.”

“Are you calling me dumb?” asks Irene immediately, but there’s no heat to her tone. There’s a bit more to her face, though, when she realizes they haven’t pulled away from each other, and Wendy’s face is only inches from her own.

“I could call you a lot of things,” Wendy answers lightly, “but right now, I’d call you a very good leader.” Her voice dips into something more tender -- something soft, Irene realizes with a flip in her stomach. “I’m glad you’re ours.”

“I’m yours,” Irene agrees, the words taking on a different meaning as she says them. She means them, both ways, she realizes finally.

The way Wendy pulls her into another hug and holds onto her hand the rest of the night under the stars makes it Irene’s favorite discovery yet.

**Author's Note:**

> Title taken from Lenachka's "I Want to Love You," which I simultaneously discovered one hour ago and then wrote this as a result. I'm also on Twitter now under this username, which is totally a plug for anyone to follow me if they'd like~ Please excuse any typos, it's late and I'll edit later, probably. Thanks for reading!


End file.
